


The Queen of Ferelden on Two Hours of Sleep

by picchar



Series: Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, King Alistair and Queen Cousland, Minor Original Character(s), POV First Person, POV Original Character, Queen Cousland (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picchar/pseuds/picchar
Summary: The Queen of Ferelden has been asleep for only two hours when she is awakened by a knock on the door.Tumblr OC meme/prompt:What is your character like on two hours of sleep.
Series: Prompt Fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865470
Kudos: 1





	The Queen of Ferelden on Two Hours of Sleep

I raised my hand to knock on the door to their Majesties’ bedchamber, hesitating right before my knuckles hit the massive wooden door. I Behind that, lay Queen Rythlen, sound asleep.

At least, I hope she was. I caught sight of her entering the Royal chambers when I had started my tasks around dawn. That was only two hours ago. The King had insisted to let her sleep in, but that was before the Orlesians arrived.

A cough next to me interrupted my thoughts. And reminded me I wasn’t alone. A Royal Sentinel had escorted me through the outer chambers and right up to the bedroom door. I glanced up at him, but whatever expression he had, his helm shielded it from my sight.

I turned back to the door and steeled myself to knock. I’ve never had to wake the Queen, and I did not know how she would react.

“Your Majesty,” I called out, making sure I was heard through the thick wood. I heard the faint sounds of sheets rustling. I waited for a few moments before raising my hand to knock again, but was interrupted when her Majesty finally replied.

“Please come in,” she said, soft and hoarse.

I opened the door and walked into complete darkness, save for a single column of light that streamed in between the thick drapery. The light hit the bed where the Queen lay, with an arm over her eyes. I walked over to the curtains and apologized before parting them.

When I turned back to the Queen, she was sitting up, blinking at the sudden intrusion of sunlight. Her mabari, Fyr, lay curled up on the floor next to her, silently watching me, his massive back rising and falling with each breath. I remember how scared I was the first time I saw him, but I quickly learned how much of a goofball he was, much like the King, if I were honest. But woe to anyone who would dare hurt the Queen.

“They’re here,” the Queen stated, her voice lower than usual, with a slight rasp, almost a whisper.

“Yes, your Majesty,” I replied as I prepared what she was to wear for the day.

“Rude,” she said with an almost imperceptible scoff. I don’t think I’ve ever heard one from her. She sighed softly and swung her legs over the side of her bed, nudging Fyr with her foot. He padded over to another part of the room and she stood up and stretched, her long black hair spilling behind her.

“The King is fully capable to handle this,” she said, though I don’t think that was specifically directed at me. And was there a hint of petulance in there? I must be hearing things. She was right though, yet another thing that surprised me when I began working at the Palace: King Alistair wasn’t, well, all jokes. Still, that was always the first impression one got.

“It’s the jokes,” Queen Rythlen said, as if reading my mind. She said nothing more as she began to dress. I turned away and began describing the members of the delegation, and the overall mood of the room before I was pulled away to wake her. Halfway through, she softly said my name, asking for assistance. She almost never needed assistance with dressing, save for ballgowns and such.

I turned to find her standing with her back to me, hands relaxed on her sides, silently waiting. Her hair was caught up in her clothes. I walked over.

“Pardon me,” I said. The Queen nodded in reply, and I gathered her hair as she finished up. I gently lowered my hands, releasing her hair, it was as silky and heavy as it looked. It cascaded down her back in gentle waves. She left her hair down and placed her circlet atop her head. With that, she turned and strode out to the door, Fyr immediately trailing her. I followed suit.

The Sentinel must have heard our approach, for the bedroom door opened just as the Queen was about to reach it. Her path unhindered, her pace uninterrupted, she strode out silently, the Sentinel saluting.

The silence continued as she made her way through the outer chamber and into the hallway. Two more Sentinels were outside, ready to escort her to the Great Hall. It was only when we reached the double doors to the Hall that she stopped. Her escort stepped aside and stood at attention.

The Queen tilted her head side to side, an audible crack coming from her neck. Her gaze at the door was almost cold, impassive. To me, she simply looked drained. She closed her eyes and took a breath before opening them again, her eyes bright, clear and focused. She nodded once and the guards stationed at the entrance to the Hall opened the doors. She stepped through, while I remained behind with Fyr.

I caught the beginning of her greetings, her voice clear, with no trace of the rasp I heard earlier. Her words gracious and welcoming. You wouldn’t know she was running on two hours of sleep. The rest was cut off and muffled as the doors shut behind her.

So that was what she was like on two hours of sleep: bleary-eyed, raspy voiced, sparing with her words, and with a hint of clumsiness. Drained, but ever the Queen.

* * *


End file.
